Perfect
by Cupcake Vigilante
Summary: Azula is being crowned Fire Lord in a few hours, but she starts to realize she can't tell what is real and what is fake. How long can she stay in denial? Rated T to be safe.


Hello everyone! Thanks for clicking on my story! This takes place a few hours before Azula sees her "mother" in the mirror of the palace. I hope you enjoy! Plus, thanks a million to my beta reader!

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Azula looked into her mirror, examining her face for any imperfections. Nothing could be out of place for her coronation, from the placements of the folds on her robe to the weight of the crown she would eternally wear on her head. Replacing her father as the Fire Lord so that he could rise to the top was no small feat. She had dreamed of surpassing her brother and becoming the ruler of the Fire Nation for years, so she wanted everything to be absolutely faultless. A strange thought entered her head; she wondered if many girls had the same mindset on their wedding day. Being a princess, she'd been to many weddings, and in all of them, the bride fussed about the tiniest details. Of course, Azula didn't know why she was thinking such a ludicrous notion. She wouldn't ever get married, so why would she waste her precious time thinking about it?

"But why wouldn't I get married?" she muttered to herself. "I'm _perfect_."

The core issues that had been swimming through her mind over the last few weeks resurfaced—would no one ever love her? Her mother thought she was a psychotic monster, her friends abandoned and betrayed her for the safety of her doltish brother, and her father only cared about her because of her raw talent for firebending. There was no one to share secrets with, to entertain her in her darkest moments, or to waste away the hours with. But Azula didn't have time for such nonsense. She was too perfect for that, wasn't she?

"It's only because no one is good enough for you. You _are_ perfect," she said aloud. "If you weren't perfect, you wouldn't be crowned Fire Lord. The Fire Lord must be perfect."

A shard of glass in the top right corner of the mirror fell off and crashed to the floor, reflecting the blood-red color in the ceiling. Azula rolled her eyes, noting that she would need to invest in some better furniture when she was Fire Lord. There were so many scratches in the glass vases and chips in the oak desks that it was going to become a necessity. Everything in the palace had to be at least two hundred-years-old, if not older; her relatives weren't too fond of redecorating. It was no wonder the mirror was breaking. She deserved the best.

"It has to be their fault," she said, slamming her hairbrush onto her vanity. The impact caused a few more pieces of glass to fall, scratching the dark varnish even further. "I am perfect. Mai—Mai was stupid and foolish. She fell in love with an idiot and now she's paying the price. Zuko was a traitor to begin with. I should have exploited his true intentions earlier. Ty Lee-" Ty Lee was the most painful to remember. If there was anyone she invested her feelings in, it was Ty Lee.

The girl was always ready to listen to Azula, no matter how demented or sadistic her thoughts were. She always had a hug waiting, even when Azula dismissed the act of affection as foolish and shrugged her away. Through the fire, the abuse, the pain, and the tears, Ty Lee stayed by Azula's side, offering a comforting hand.

Ty Lee was her complete opposite; Azula was calm and calculating, while Ty Lee was bubbly and hyperactive. Their friendship was always confusing to those around them but there was something that drew them to each other, as if the forces of nature had placed special magnets in their hearts. As children, they laughed and played games together. In war, they fought together. Ty Lee had never done anything against her before, but Azula had cursed and belittled her for the most miniscule things. There was no end to the myriad of times that Azula shot flames at the small gymnast, but the girl always dodged them swiftly and smiled through it. Azula always returned the unconditional love with hate and manipulation. Was it possible that she had betrayed Ty Lee, and not the other way around?

"No!" she screamed, and a few more pieces of glass unhinged themselves from the thin glue that held them to the wooden frame. "Ty Lee protected that fool. If she wanted to stay by Mai's side, then she deserved what she got! I don't need her anyway!"

A single tear fell, but Azula wiped it away bitterly. The remainder of the glass shattered, dispersing off of the vanity and onto the floor with splattering plinks. One shard managed to slice across her leg, causing a fair amount of blood to break free from the confines of her skin, but she ignored it. Pain was nothing to her. Her mourning was done.

"I am perfect. I don't need any of them. Tomorrow, I will become Fire Lord, and then they will know what it means to fear me," she reassured herself, tightening her fists. "I am perfect!"

A light knock at the door interrupted her crazed ranting. The princess took a few deep breaths, trying to calm her shaking. No one could see her in her current state. The emotions she was feeling were too _human_—too flawed.

"Come in," she commanded, straightening her spine to give her a more regal appearance.

"Princess Azula," said a servant fearfully, bowing before her. "Is everything alright, ma'am?"

"I'm fine," she snapped. "And call me Fire Lord. I want to get used to the title. Bring me my evening robes; I want to eat dinner soon."

"Yes, Fire Lord," she said, scrambling out of the room.

Azula smirked. The terror she caused gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction. The entire world would learn to fear her, and she would become greater than any Fire Lord who ever reigned. People would bow the moment she came into a room, she would conquer the world, and no one would dare to speak ill of her.

Yet, when she turned back to her vanity, all of the glass was sitting unbroken in its original place. She hurriedly glanced around the floor and found the glass was cleaned from it. Yet, her leg still ached. Her hand shot down to her leg as she began to panic. When she brought her hand back up, the tips of her sharp fingernails were covered in blood but there was no apparent wound on her hands. She felt herself freeze, depersonalized from the shock.

"No," she whispered, fighting back tears as the realization spread through her. "I'm perfect."

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I hope you liked it! Thank you so much for reading, and don't shy away from reviews!


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